


Just Tonight

by LovelyAkuma



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyAkuma/pseuds/LovelyAkuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'For pain and sorrow the colour is white'. Jem remembers the rhyme when he wakes up to find a white suit hanging from his door. He opens the door with a sudden urge of making sure his parabatai is okay, to find out he wasn't the only one thinking about that. What happens to two people who think they had lost each other when they realise it hasn't happened?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pre-Clockwork Angel fanfiction, which means Tessa is not in it. I do love Tessa (and Wessa and Jessa), but Heronstairs holds a special place in my heart, so hence, enjoy a little parabatai love.
> 
> Will, Jem and everything regarding the TID and Shadowhunters universe belongs to the wonderful Cassandra Clare.

The slam of a distant door woke him up, his eyes flying open in the shadows. He blinked twice until he could distinguish the furniture of his bedroom under the dim brightness of the witchlight and the light of the moon that entered through the window. It had to be really early.

Jem Carstairs rolled in his bed, wishing to fall asleep again—but went still.

He had caught sight of a white shirt and a white pair of trousers hanging from the door. He got up on his feet and crossed the room towards it.

_For pain and sorrow, the color is white_ , he recalled.

There was a note, too, with his name—complete name—on it, written in a handwriting he didn’t recognize. He took it, and was about to open it, but froze, as faces started to cross his mind: Charlotte, Henry, Agatha, Thomas, Sophie, Jessamine, Will… _Will_.

His heart raced when he thought of Will. His parabatai had gone out that night, as he usually did when he knew that someone was paying attention to him. He knew that Will didn’t actually do much of the things he made people think he always did. However, what if something bad had happened to him that night? It was totally possible: a fight, a demon, an angry downworlder, a trap…

Jem tried to stay calm, but the more he thought about Will, the more nervous he became. Breathing hard, he tossed the note away, swung open the door and ran to Will’s room—or he would have, if he hadn’t crashed into something hard when he got out of his room.

He fell backwards to the ground and saw the boy who was standing in front of him with his chest raising and falling erratically, his blue eyes wide open, his face a livid but flushed mask.

Jem sighed in relief, and Will did exactly the same, falling to his knees and looking into Jem’s eyes with a worried expression.

“I swear, James”, said Will in a sigh, “if you ever scare me like that again, I’m going to hit you with your own cane.”

“I wasn’t the one standing by the other side of your door, William”, he replied. He looked at his friend, his blue eyes fixed on his. “Why are you here?”

“I—I thought—”. Will didn’t finish what he had been about to say. Instead, he pressed his hand to his left eye, as if trying to stay calm.

“I thought you had died”, said Jem, surprising Will, who dropped his hand looking at Jem’s eyes… looking _into_ them, directly at his soul, in a way only he knew how. “I always thought that I would die before you did,” Jem found himself saying. He noticed Will tensing beside him, but paid no attention to it. “I thought you had left before I did, and I couldn’t even bear breathing at the thought of never seeing you again.” He was talking too much. He had never said that much about it to Will, but he couldn’t stop. His words were flowing, without him having any control on them. “Will, I—”

Will didn’t let him finish. He had risen to his feet, had caught Jem by the arm, and had made him stand up. He looked directly into Jem’s eyes again, and something odd happened.

Jem felt Will’s blue eyes—with the deeper blue he had ever seen— stronger on him than ever, leaving him out breath. Jem’s heart was thumping so fast and loud he was afraid Will might have been able to hear it. His parabatai moved closer to him, and—Jem didn’t know exactly when or how— pressed his lips to Jem’s.

And they were kissing.

Will sighed and Jem’s mouth filled with his air. The kiss had begun slow, careful, the way a child would tiptoe into a room, knowing he shouldn’t be doing it. But it was now turning rough, fierce. It was still tender, though, but passionate. Will’s mouth tasted like chocolate. Jem smiled in Will’s mouth recognizing that flavor, somehow so far away from what he had expected Will’s mouth to taste like.

Will kicked the door closed and embraced Jem harder, pulling him closer. He unbuttoned slowly, carefully and tenderly Jem’s sleeping shirt and they half-walked-half-fell to the bed, never separating their lips.

Jem was burning under Will’s hands, which were exploring him in a way that they—or anyone else’s hands— had never done it. He had dreamed of that: Will’s kisses all over his body, Will’s eyes only looking at him, Will’s hands, slowly warming his body.

He had dreamed about it ever since they were young, since Will had tried to make him laugh, even if it was hard; since Will had insisted on being his parabatai, even if Jem had told him that it was not a good idea; since… since when, exactly? He didn’t actually know. He just knew that, somehow, at some point, he had realized that it was true.

He was in love with William Herondale.

And, as strange and as unbelievable as it may have sounded, Will seemed to be in love with him too. Or, at least, that was what he read in those blue eyes, those warm hands, those tender, passionate, lips.

But back then, when he had realized what he was feeling, he had also realized something else. And he knew it even then, kissing Will fiercely, grabbing him closer to his body.

It was forbidden.

But he couldn’t draw back from him.

“This is wrong, Will”, he sighed without letting him go, without even letting there lips separate too much.

“This is the first time someone has ever told me that”, he replied looking at him with amusement in his bright blue eyes. “They tend to say I’m quite good…”

“Will”, Jem sighed.

“I know”, said Will, suddenly serious. “This is not right. But I don’t mind.” His eyes were suddenly filled with a begging brightness. “Just tonight, Jem. Let us love each other, just tonight.”

“Just tonight”, Jem whispered in a sigh.

It was more than what they should have gotten. And more than what he could have ever asked for.

But not even close to what he had ever actually wanted.

He took Will from the back of his neck, drew him closer and kissed him, with a passion he had never known he possessed. Will responded, leaning closer to him, as if melting over him. Jem took Will from the shoulders and rolled in the bed, getting on top of his parabatai.

He started to unbutton Will’s shirt now, slowly, nervously. His hands shook as Will fixed his amused blue eyes on his. With a kind smile, Will held gently Jem’s hands and helped him unbutton his shirt. The warmth of Will’s hands filled Jem’s body, and he leaned to kiss him. First, he kissed the lips, then the neck, then the shoulders, then the chest. He kissed every Mark and every scar and every rune on Will’s body. He touched gently Will’s _parabatai_ rune and stopped.

_Just tonight_ , a voice inside of his head told him, as he leaned and kissed that rune too.

Will made a sound between a sigh and a laugh, and something that Jem had never heard before on his mouth. He embraced Jem and rolled to get on top of him again, and did exactly the same thing Jem had done: he kissed every Mark and every rune and every scar, and every corner of Jem’s body.

And they spent the whole night like that, kissing each other’s body until they were both burning, rolling in the bed, embracing each other, sometimes gently, sometimes fiercely… until the sun started rising.

Until the night was over.

They both lay awake in Jem’s bed, their clothes all over the room, their eyes fixed in each other’s, their chests rising and falling faster than ever.

He had never felt so exhausted, but so alive. And it was all thanks to Will. No one had ever made him feel that way.

He closed his eyes and fell asleep, and dreamt of Will. Again.

In the dream, Will was holding his hand and looking directly into his eyes.

“Jem”, the Will from the dream sighed. “Tonight was the most perfect night I ever had. You are my best friend, my blood brother, my parabatai. But tonight, just tonight, you were my lover. You are my everything. I will never, _ever_ , forget this night. You will always be my first one.” Dream Will’s voice shook, but found the strength to continue. “I love you, James.”

Dream Will leaned over Jem, took him by the chin and kissed him, one more time. It was a short, tender, bittersweet kiss.

A good-bye kiss.

Will let go of Jem’s hand and disappeared.

“I love you, William”, he whispered in his dream, staring at the place where Will had been. “I always will.”

 

That morning was the funeral. Apparently, a shadowhunter named Lorelei Lilydrop, a dear friend of Charlotte’s had died the day before, fighting against a demon. She had destroyed it, but died of a heart attack caused by its poison.

When Jem got to the carriage, Will was already there. They were both traveling together, just the two of them.

Jem looked at Will. White had always favored him, making his dark hair and the depths of his blue eyes stand out. He looked like a fallen angel, just missing his wings—Jem had the impression that they would have been black, if they existed.

Through the white clothe of the shirt, Jem could see Will’s black Marks. Even his parabatai rune.

They talked about the nice weather—as nice as London’s weather could be—and mostly about anything not referred to the night before. Sometimes, Will would look at him, and in his eyes, Jem would read what neither of them would say: _Let’s pretend that yesterday perfect night never happened._

And so they did.

 

They never talked about that night, never even mentioned it. It was their hidden treasure. Something both knew existed, but neither of them wanted to touch, as if not touching it would make it even dearer.

Sometimes, Jem would look at Will’s lips, or eyes, or neck or hands—or all together, at the same time—and remember everything. Every kiss, every touch, every sigh. And something inside him would wake up, a wish inside of him, a kind of longing. But he would hide it. He always would.

It was much better to have Will by his side as his best friend, his parabatai, than not having him at all.

He eventually fell in love again with another person, but part of his heart was irrevocably Will’s. And not even the Angel would have been able to change it.

He would never forget that night either. Will, too, would always be his first one.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! English is not my first language, so I hope I didn't make any typo!  
> I'm thinking of making this same fic from Will's pov, so comment and tell me if you liked it and if you'd like to experience it from Will's pov!  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
